Too many story ideas, not enough time. Maybe if owned Hetalia, I'd have the time, but alas, I don't.

America exchanged glances with Russia, who looked as worried as he was. He gulped, his mouth suddenly very dry.

There was a panicked chatter as the words sank in.

"Nuclear fallout?! There's a special place in hell for that kind of apocalypse-"

"Germany... That won't happen, will it-"

"They won't stop-"

Ramirez's voice, sharp and irate, cut through the clamour, silencing it. "Look, if they have nuclear weapons, then we can't waste time arguing and panicking! Right now, we're the world's best hope when it comes to stopping this, and we can't afford to let them down. The only lead we have is this 'base', so we need to act on it. I have a plan... We'll need as many people as we can if we are going in... "

The governments of the world were slipping into chaos, be it imperceptible or obvious. China had, depending on your viewpoint, either turned or fallen to the Defiant, the seats of government in UK destroyed by people under the very same name, and numerous other little skirmishes were scattered around the world.

Riots were rife, the people divided. Who did they believe? The terrorists? The governments? The 'evidence' or what they knew to be true? Each day new photos and anecdotes emerged... But yet they had no answers.

Around the world, people were having to decide just what they believed, and then, what they were going to do about it.

Around the world, people were asking questions, talking on street corners and banging on doors.

The leaders of the world were no different to any other person in the end.

Even before the call went out to the nations of the world to gather to confront their foe, some had had to hide and run from their presidents, monarchs and prime ministers. The turmoil affected them, as did any great event, but this was different. Some were rejecting them. China felt this the most with his own government turning against him, and it left him close to death, clinging on through those who either didn't believe the tales of nations and still called themselves Chinese and those who still were Chinese even though they believed.

France felt it himself, each decision a pinprick in the back of his mind. What was it that Angleterre had likened it to? ...something from Peter Pan... Ah, oui, every time someone said that they didn't believe in fairies, a fairy died. He used to get so angry whenever someone said that-

...It wasn't a perfect analogy, but it was good enough.

France's mind started to wander again, as he thought about what the nations might do after this... If they survived it all. Would they hide again? ...would it be even possible to do so? On the one hand, he was desperate to cling on to any semblance of a normal life, but one the other, he was so tired of lying about who he was.

"Ve... Are we there yet?"

France subtly hit his head against the car window. Just how had he ended up in the car with Germany, Italy and Austria? Really, he got on reasonably well with them all, but this was the tenth time in half an hour that Italy had asked the same question.

Germany, currently driving, seemed to be equally irritated by Italy's constant fidgeting in the seat behind him, but it was Austria who had the energy to reply to his question. "No, Italy, we are not there yet. We won't be there for at least another hour."

There was a groan, and Germany winced as Italy unintentionally kicked Germany's seat again. "...Do we have any pasta-"

"No Italy, we do not, you ate it two hours ago."

Another groan, France looked behind him to see the small pile of white flags that Italy had been busying himself with for the past while, and Italy partly buried underneath them. "Italie... Can't you just have a siesta or something?"

His head roused from the pile of flags. "But it's not siesta time yet!"

France sighed. "We're going across time zones, it probably is siesta time here."

Italy pouted and buried himself in the white flags again. "But it's not siesta time for me! ...can we play one of those car games again? I'll start, I spy with-"

The scribbling of Austria's pen stopped for a moment. "No, Italy. Not I-Spy."

"...Then how about that game where you say something and then the next person says something related to it? What's it called... Telephone? Connections? I'll start again! Pasta~!"

France hit his head on the window again, this time not so subtly.

Just how had he ended up in the car with Prussia, America and Agent McCoy? Prussia and America were, despite being a little more serious than usual, still obnoxiously loud. McCoy had been trusted to drive, with Ramirez going with the other UK brothers. They had tried to keep the passengers in each car at four, so they had room for supplies and weapons. They would have flown, but the sheer amount of weapons would be hard to explain. Add in the fact that having to go through customs might lead to them gaining unwanted attention, either from the public, their governments or the Defiant, and this meant that England was cooped up in a car as Prussia and America gave him, and presumably McCoy as well, a headache.

He tried to block out the noise, thinking about how many of the nations were feeling weakened slightly by the turmoil the Defiant were causing. He himself was actually starting to feel a little better. He smirked, those idiots may have crippled his government, but that had also managed to unite his people against the Defiant.

Prussia's voice cut through any hope of maintaining his train of thought. "Service station in two miles! I need a piss!"

"...Can't it wait? We can't afford to waste time."

"We can't afford me pissing my pants just as I awesomely kick their asses!"

McCoy sighed. "I have to say I'm with Prussia, I need to get out of this car, but just for a short time though. Like England said, we can't afford to waste too much time."

The service station was small, but it was what was needed. Prussia had taken care of his 'needs', and joined America in the small shop, buying a few snacks. His hair and eyes gathered stares from the few staff and other customers. Before he could make a scene, McCoy elbowed him slightly, and leaned closer to whisper. "We need to be going, perhaps you should think about covering your hair next time we're out in public, we're getting looks."

"Ja, sure. People can't handle my awesomeness, I know."

They were just about to leave when Prussia felt a small tug at his jeans. Looking down, he saw a small child, hood over her head failing to completely cover her white hair and golden eyes.

"...Are... You like me?"

PROCRASTINATES INTENSELY

Don't worry, after this week, it's the Christmas holidays! C:

I love writing this.

STUFF

WILL

HAPPEN

((NINJA EDIT BECAUSE I REMEMBERED WHAT I WANTED TO SAY HERE: Of course this fic isn't entirely serious, the characters aren't serious. Not even Germany. One of his character songs is about baking. You can write your german sex gods and smexy English pirates, but in the end, if you ask me they are all adorable idiots.))